


Nouva Venzia

by Pastaaddict



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Under the name Pastaaddict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 07:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14444583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastaaddict/pseuds/Pastaaddict
Summary: Venice has sunk and North Italy has passed away.  Nouva Venzia is built in memory of Venice and the Nations gather for the dedication of the new city but everyone is missing a certain bubbly Italian, especially Germany and Romano.





	Nouva Venzia

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a requested story by Jade the Mouse on Fanfiction so I hope you like.
> 
> Disclaimer : I do not own Hetalia.

 

  


**_**Nuova Venezia** _ **

The warm Italian waters of the Adriatic Sea rose and fell in small waves as it lapped against the protruding tops of the sunken city of Venice. Scientists had argued about whether or not Venice was sinking or if the flooding was the result of the sea levels rising for brief periods. In the end, a combination of both had sent the beautiful city into the ocean faster than anyone had anticipated, Now, only the domes and towers of places like the Doge's Palace, St Mark's Basilica and the Santa Maria della Salute were visible now. The Bridge of Sighs and The Rialto Bridge now rested beneath the waters rather than over them. The Grand Canal was now just a drop in the ocean, literally and the city that once stood on a series of small islands had become small islands of tower tops, domes and roof tops itself. A great loss to Italy and the world but the greatest loss was in the form of a small Italian man with auburn hair with a fly way curl sticking out on the left and beautiful amber eyes, to anyone lucky enough to have seen them, and a permanently happy disposition. As Venice slowly drowned, North Italy or Italy Veneziano, as he was sometimes know as, slowly drowned with it. All the times that Italy had wailed and cried about how he did not want to die when facing battle, when he faced his impending doom by the ocean, it was with great courage and positivity. It seems it was only violent death he was afraid of.

Two miles from the boundary of the now sub-emerged city stood Nuova Venezia, New Venice, built in memory of the old. The architects had created artificial islands on which to build and they tried to recapture the splendour of the old architectural styles but, right now, the city was too new and shiny and they could not follow the layout of the old city precisely but they had done a good job of replicating the more famous sights of the original but it would never be the same for most, Romano and Germany in particular. Some misguided individuals proposed building the new city on top of the old. When Romano heard that proposal, the air turned blue with very choice words and it became clear that he would not entertain the idea of building Nuova Venezia on, what he saw as, his fratello's corpse.

Romano, Germany and Japan stood on the quay-side of Nuova Venezia, looking at the protruding tower tops and domes of the old city and then toward the part of the sea that the Isola di San Michele now rested under. North Italy had been given a burial at sea above the island under his human name, Feliciano Vargas, and his lignum vitae coffin now sat among the graves of the cemetery island. While limited diving expeditions were permitted within Old Venice itself, for those wanting to explore 'The Italian Atlantis', the designated grave site of San Michelle was strictly prohibited.

"What do you think he would have made of today?" Germany asked Romano, now known as Italy, rather than just South Italy but Romano would only allow himself to be called Italy at World Meetings as being called Italy just reminded him of losing his fratello. Today was the official dedication of Nuova Venezia or New Venice and most of the world dignitaries were within the city along with all the personifications for the celebrations, although for the other countries, it was a bitter-sweet moment as many had not been back to the country since Italy's funeral.

"I think he would agree with us, Potato Bastard," Romano replied. Once upon a time 'Potato Bastard' would have been said with venom and scorn but Germany's grief at Italy's death had convinced Romano that Germany had really cared about his fratello and was not just using him. Now 'Potato Bastard' was a nick-name for a friend. "Nuova Venezia would never replace Venice but he liked a party. Italy would have had fun today!"

"Hai!" Japan said. "I agree! This is a beautiful city but it needs to make its own history to be worthy of its name and Veneziano." Germany looked up toward the sun with watery eyes.

"I still miss him," he admitted, a tear escaping and running down his cheek. "I miss his infectious smile, I miss how he always followed me around, I miss how he always had a plate of pasta in his hand, I miss how he always tried to skip out on training, I miss ….. I miss everything!" Something that never would have happened before Italy's death was Romano putting a comforting hand on Germany's shoulder.

"I know," he said with his own tears. "I miss the idiota too!" And they stood looking out to sea toward San Michele. Japan thought about his lost friend and maintained a respectful silence.

* * *

America, Canada and England were stood on the replica of The Rialto Bridge, looking down the manufactured canal it stood over, Canada looking down at his reflection in the water and he could almost imagine Italy looking over his shoulder with a happy smile. He could not remember a time when Italy did not have a happy smile.

England, however, could remember Italy being terrified of him, even after hostilities had ceased between them. England was sorry he had scared him so much, the Italian was a perpetual man-child so it was like scaring a little kid. England could not think of a reason to dislike Italy. True, Italy had said England's cooking was horrible but everybody insulted England's cooking at some point or other so he could not hold that against Italy. Italy had been like a puppy in human form, too lovable to hate!

America remembered all his Christmas parties that Italy never failed to come to, often dragging Germany with him. Italy shared America's child-like love of the season and it made the Italian fun to be around, especially when Finland turned up with presents. America's parties lacked something now that Italy was gone, something that could not be replaced!

"So what'd ya think of Nuova Venezia?" America asked, looking around at the buildings, separated by canals that had gondolas floating past, just like the Old Venice. It all looks Venetian but there was something missing.

"It needs something," England replied. "A spark of Italian feeling the old city had that this city won't have yet!"

"A spark of life," Canada agreed. "Nuova Venezia isn't really lived in yet, eh!"

"It needs fun!" America stated. The three countries realised they had just listed all the qualities that Italy brought everywhere he went.

They all stood on the bridge and sighed.

* * *

France, Spain and Prussia were hanging out in the main plaza, watching people mill about, some were foreign visitors but most were native Italians. The Bad Touch Trio thought this would be fun but, despite the festive atmosphere, that indefinable element that turned a good party into a great party was missing.

"This should be totally awesome," Prussia commented. "It's only somewhat awesome! Something's missing!"

"Si," Spain agreed. "We're in Italy and we're missing an certain Italian!"

"Oh, mon ami!" France sighed. "We know you're missing Romano ….. "

"I was thinking of Italy!" The three friends became rather subdued. Both Spain and Prussia remembered helping Romano and Germany through their grief while dealing with their own and France, who considered himself to be everybody's Big Brother, mourned for the little Italian who left a big gap in everybody's life. Everyone missed Italy!

"Suddenly, everything's less awesome!" Prussia commented.

* * *

"It's not the same without Italy!" Hungary said to Austria, sadly as they wandered through the streets, examining the architecture of the new city. It was too new for Hungary and Austria had to agree. It would take time for Nuova Venezia to gain a patina of history as it would eventually but it would never truly be Venice.

Because it was missing its heart!

Despite the passing of time since Italy's death, Hungary still sometimes cried for the nation she helped raise while Austria had showed his own grief by playing Chopin which he often played when upset. He might never show it but, like with everyone else, Italy had worked his way into Austria's affections in all the years he was in Austria's care. In fact, Austria had composed a musical piece in Italy's memory that he would be playing at the dedication of the city. Speaking of which …..

"Time to get ready for the dedication." And he and Hungary made their way back to their hotel.

* * *

Night had fallen and the main plaza was filled with people, conversation was buzzing around and music played. The nations gathered together with the exception of Austria who was waiting in the wings to play the piano. Everyone else was in a happy mood but the nations were lost in memories of Italy. Germany, in particular, was thinking of his last days with Italy.

__Italy refused to be in the hospital, there was nothing the hospital could do, any way. He wanted to be at Germany's house for his last days. With his best friend!_ _

 

__The last people were leaving Venice as the last part of the city was sinking into the ocean and the sea levels were on the rise again. In a few days, the last part of the city would be under the Adriatic. Germany and Romano were steeling themselves for the last days as Germany had allowed Romano to move in, despite Romano's hatred for him but under the circumstances, Germany could not say no._ _

 

__Germany put aside the plate of pasta he had been feeding to Italy but Italy had been unable to eat all of it, a true reflection of his state of health and Italy lay back in his bed and gazed at Germany with an exhausted expression,_ _

 

 _"_ __Ve~ Germany?"_ _

 

 _"_ __Ja, Italy!"_ _

 

 _"_ __Germany," Italy said. "I know I don't have long now!"_ _

 

 _"_ __Don't talk like that, Italy!"_ _

 

 _"_ __Ve~ You know it's true," Italy insisted. "I want you to do one thing for me."_ _

 

 _"_ __What do you want me to do, Italy?" Germany asked._ _

 

 _"_ __Tell me something," Italy replied. "Tell me you kept your promise, what you promised all those years ago. Tell me that it's you!" Germany leant down to Italy's ear and whispered. Italy smiled and his eyes slipped shut to rest._ _

 

__The next day, Italy fell into a coma and then, two days later with his best friend and fratello at his side, as the last of Venice slipped into the sea, Italy passed away._ _

Germany shook his head to clear it of the sad memory but it was never far from his mind, the day he imparted his deepest secret to his dying friend. Then everything went quiet as Romano's boss took the stage.

"This is an auspicious day," he announced in Italian and interpreters repeated his words in other languages for their foreign visitors. "On this day, we dedicate a new city and remember the old. As the sun set on Venice, it will rise on Nuova Venezia, although Venice will always be in our hearts and our history, never forgotten." He looked over at Romano and the nations knew he was talking about more than just the sub-merged city. "May Nuova Venezia find its own place. In dedication of Old Venice, one of our Austrian friends has written a musical composition and will play it for us now so without further ado, I present Signore Roderich Edelstein!"

Austria took the stage to applause, more so among the nations, and bowed. In honour of the occasion, he wore clothes from the days of Beethoven and Mozart and looked every inch an eighteenth century composer as he moved to the piano that had been set up on the stage and sat down in front of the keyboard.

It started off with a soft tinkling that rippled gently through the air and slowly became faster and more energetic and passionate, heartfelt and poignant. Silence fell over the plaza as people got wrapped up in the music that Austria had put his heart and soul into. It ended on a crescendo, leaving the people spell-bound and more than one in tears, not a dry eye among the nations. After a moment of silence, the plaza erupted into thunderous applause. Austria stood up from the piano, bowed and left the stage to join the other nations.

"That was beautiful, Austria," Hungary praised. "Italy would have loved it!"

"Indeed!" Germany agreed. "He would have been so happy with a musical piece in his honour!" Austria blushed at the praise and merely nodded. Romano's boss took the stage again and stood before a pedestal with a large button on it.

"Thank you, Signore Edelstein, for that wonderful tribute to the city of Venice," he said. "And now, I dedicate this city and name it Nuova Venezia." He hit the button and fireworks shot into the air and the night sky lit up with bursts of colour and it was the signal to start the real party.

But something else had happened! Something that could not be seen but felt, like the city had acquired a heartbeat that was getting stronger. The people seemed to feel it and it made them happier and the party got more festive. Most of the nations went for a drink in Italy's memory but Germany did not feel like it so he left to return to his hotel.

"Wait up, Potato Bastard!" Romano's voice followed him and he looked back to see the Italian following him and Spain following Romano.

"Shouldn't you stay?" Germany asked. "It's your country's celebration."

"I only had to stay for the ceremony," Romano replied. "What I do afterwards is up to me so I'm ditching."

"Romano doesn't do parties since …. well …." Spain trailed off. Germany nodded with understanding. He was never much of a party goer to begin with and after Italy …. he sighed, sadly. Spain's phone rang and he answered it.

"Hola," he greeted. "What ….? How did ….? Never mind, I'm coming! Adiós!" Spain ended the call.

"France has fallen into the canal," he explained. "Something about him being overwhelmed by Prussia's awesomeness. I got to go and help! Adiós!" Spain went off to find his friends.

"Yeah!" Romano yelled after him. "Go help the pervert drown, Tomato Bastard!" Germany and Romano continued on to the hotel.

"Is it me or has this city become more ….. alive?" Germany asked . Romano looked round and had to admit Germany had a point. Everything was more vibrant and the people were happier and it was like the spirit of Old Venice had infused the new city. They wandered into a deserted part, not far from the hotel as fireworks continued to fly above Nuova Venezia.

"It's still not the same without fratello!" Romano declared, Germany agreed.

"Ve~ Pretty colours!"

Germany and Romano stopped at the sound of the voice. It was high, like that of a young child but the Ve~ was unmistakable. It couldn't be! If this was someone's idea of a joke, that someone was going to die!

"Fratello?" the child's voice asked. Germany looked around and saw a little figure in the shadows. It moved forward and stepped into the light. It was a child, a boy about four years old in little white robes which made him look a little girlish. He had auburn hair with a curl on the left hand side of his head and he gazed at them with amber eyes. Germany and Romano could only stared as the child toddled toward them, then Romano fell to his knees when the little boy came up to them.

"Italy!" he gasped. Little Italy threw his little arms around Romano and hugged in the way that children do.

"Fratello!" Romano cried and hugged the little boy back then Romano picked Chibitalia up and held his little, Little brother to him.

"How did this happen?" Germany stared in awe at the chibi-fied, formerly deceased nation in Romano's arms as the little nation turned to look at Germany.

"Who cares!" Romano replied, wearing the first smile since Italy's funeral. He did not care how it happen! He had his little fratello back, littler than before but Romano did not care and he held the boy as tears of happiness filled his eyes at the thought that his family was complete again.

Germany stared at the little nation in Romano's arms, the familiar cherub face staring back at him with bright amber eyes, rarely seen. Had his friend really returned as a child? Did he remember what went before? Chibitalia had called Romano his fratello but was that because he remembered or was it simply instinct? That he knew Romano as part of the same country? What else did he know? Whatever the truth, Germany wanted to hold the child version of his friend but did not know if Romano would let him! Their relationship had improved but had it improved that much?

"Romano," he asked. "May I hold him?" Romano looked a little unsure but Germany held out his arms. "Please?"

In the end, Chibitalia made the decision for Romano as he reached out for the German nation and Romano let him go. Germany pulled Little Italy into his arms and held him against his chest, only then did Germany feel that his friend was truly back. He could feel the tears burning the back of his eyes as the tiny nation snuggled into him, wrapping his arms round Germany's neck. Did Chibitalia remember everything from before, remember the last thing Germany had told him before his death or had rebirth started everything again with Chibitalia only sensing that Romano was his fratello? That question was answered when Chibitalia put his lips to Germany's ear and whispered,

"Ciao, Holy Rome!"

 


End file.
